this--this beggar boy?"

The boy flushed angrily; but before he could speak Pollyanna
interposed valiant championship.

"He isn't a beggar boy. He belongs to one of my very best friends.
Besides, he's the one that found me and brought me home that time I
was lost." Then to the boy she turned with impetuous questioning.
"What is it? Did Jamie send you?"

"Sure he did. He hit the hay a month ago, and he hain't been up
since."

"He hit--what?" puzzled Pollyanna.

"Hit the hay--went ter bed. He's sick, I mean, and he wants ter see
ye. Will ye come?"

"Sick? Oh, I'm so sorry!" grieved Pollyanna. "Of course I'll come.
I'll go get my hat and coat right away."

"Miss Pollyanna!" gasped Mary in stern disapproval. "As if Mrs. Carew
would let you go--ANYWHERE with a strange boy like this!"

"But he isn't a strange boy," objected Pollyanna. "I've known him ever
so long, and I MUST go. I--"

"What in the world is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs. Carew icily
from the drawing-room doorway. "Pollyanna, who is this boy, and what
is he doing here?"